


What's Next?

by Kate_Beckett



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8, Ocean's Eight
Genre: (I move that 'Deblou' be the ship name), (is that the ship name?), Debbie-Centric, Deblou, F/F, Post Movie, Slice of Criminal Life, anyway, ongoing fic, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 04:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14927411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Beckett/pseuds/Kate_Beckett
Summary: Prologue:Lou visits Deb at Danny's Grave.***A multi-chapter fic following Deb, Lou, the other women after the heist.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I saw Ocean's Eight the other day and I am in love. It was wonderful. I left to use the restroom and when I came back Cate Blanchett was on screen, so I missed her characters intro and for the entirety of the movie I assumed Debbie and Lou were lovers. Imagine my disappointment.
> 
> Anyway this is my first fanfiction ever and it's a bit of an experiment. This chapter is very short because I just wanted to get something out there. I don't know where this is going, but I would really appreciate some feedback and some suggestions?
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Debbie sat less than contented in front of the cold stonewall bearing her brother’s name. The cool, May wind carried a chill that chiseled at the crack of her self-foraged contentment, an offensive betrayal, she thought, not quite woefully. Taking a deep breath and dropping her shoulders she allowed the corners of her mouth to ghost a half-smile. 

The heist thrilled her in every way she could imagine; and she walked away with a grand 38 mil and all the satisfaction that came with it. 

 

Debbie’s wild spirit should have been intellectually, gutturally, monetarily satisfied- her taste for revenge, sated.  
And it was a sweet ride; watching Claude be ravished by the press and police had conjured an old playground classic in her mind. Na-na-na-na-boo-boo. 

 

She hmmed. But, not unlike the rhyme, she quickly outgrew the superficial fulfillment, and it faded into a fond recollection of a victory once had.  
Still had. She possesses wealth that the man will never know, though Debbie was not a vain woman, she fancied furs and jewels and other finer things of course, but the true satisfaction of the wealth came only in it’s unlawful attainment. 

 

The adrenaline rush had been spectacular, but the true high had been watch been watching Constance slide by security, or slipping away with Yen to steal the crown jewels, or watching Nine Ball parade down the Met staircase in a dress suited for royalty.

But Debbie had truly felt her heart skip a beat when she watched Lou smirking at her from across the street with unabashed satisfaction, a diamond necklace worn proudly against her chest. 

She inhaled a stuttering breath before blowing it out forwardly through pursed lips.

It wasn’t soon after she heard the purr of an approaching motorcycle and smiled a fond, closed-lipped smile. 

Debbie adjusted warmly to the newly occupied atmosphere, but didn’t turn her head when she hear the familiar click of the girl’s heels on the concrete. She finished her drink and set the glass in the adjacent space with a decisive clink. 

Lou approached the bench, and gracefully placed the glass behind the bench before wordlessly walking around to take her place beside Debbie.  
Debbie pressed her shoulder into Lou’s, a familiar and welcome pressure. Lou relaxed as Debbie pressed into her neck, breathing a calm, warm air against her skin. She felt a soft kiss on her neck and wrapped her arm around Deb’s back, pulling her in.

“What’s next, babe?”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but whatever. Updates will be sporadic, but the hope is to find more writing time. I started sophomore year in college and it has been rough, my dudes. 
> 
> Anyway, I had every intention of this being pure smut, idk what happened. Maybe next time? Hope you enjoy.
> 
> (Ps did anyone notice the magic eight ball? Nobody's said anything about it yet. It made me laugh.)

* * *

 

* * *

Back at her loft Lou watched Debbie with an ever-present and unsated fascination that she knew would never be overwhelmed by intolerance. Debbie was so flawed. Lou could feel deep in her gut the marrings and tissue that bound the two of them together; an irrevocable, but electrifying connection.

Debbie leaned back against the table, her hands pressed wide behind her. She looked at Lou with an earnest twinkle in her eyes that Lou didn’t dare interpret too deeply, though she longed to. Lou cast her eyes to the floor, unable to meet the intense gaze though she still felt her skin prickle under its warmth.

In all the years they’d know each other they had never been intimate. It was just as surprising as it wasn’t: they’d spent their nights in small-town casinos, surrounded by beer sillers and self-aggrandizing high rollers who would never fail to overestimate more than just their poker hand. Debbie never seemed to mind though: she reveled in it even- tossing her head back and laughing good-naturedly at flirtatious jokes that had been told over and over in nights before. Lou laughed too, but it was a dry laughter never born of amusement or discontent. Sometimes she’d grow restless- envious even- of the almost instinctual way Debbie could forage a path, navigating blindly with ease and thrill.

It was no secret Debbie prefered the company of both men and women though she used it as more of a ploy than anything else. It was part of her brand, a gimmick to loosen purse strings and get cash flowing. There was a fair share of overconfident male - always male- players who’d lay down the big bills just to be in the company of the chaste kisses and shared contact between two beautiful women.

Debbie rarely played cheap, hand-slip cons without a beautiful girl on her arm, and - more often than not - Lou was happy to play the part. It was simpler and safer that way, but Debbie liked to have her fun.

Lou would slip numbers, suits, and plays into Debbie’s ear between trips to the bar. She’d order watered down drinks courtesy of whoever was unfortunate enough to leave their wallet in a loose coat pocket.

She’d push her hips palpitately close to Debbie, leaning down to press her nose against Debbie’s hair, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper, a feigned look of confusion on her face. When she got the message, Debbie would kiss her cheek. “It's complicated.”

Sometimes Lou would perch on her leg and watch a game play out, observing the deal and table tendencies before kissing Debbie’s neck to her ear murmuring a half-count approximation of the deal.

“Later, baby.” Debbie would falsely whisper, her voice projecting across the tables; her hand gently pressed on Lou’s ribs.

Lou almost felt bad for laughing.

She really didn’t mind playing the arm candy, counting, and causing a distraction - it tickled her: usually. Between the two of them Lou was the poker shark- she was (still is) -absolutely brilliant, but she lacked the patience or temperament to see the long-game through. Debbie - all charisma and smirks- seemed to only play the long game, swaggering into a buy-in with a sweet smile and bat of her eyes. It was comfortable enough.

 

On grey days she’d sit at the bar and watch Debbie leave on the arm of a three-piece-suit turned betting-man, but not before parading around and making a semi-voyeuristic event of the affair to throw a bone of good faith to the male ego and cast off suspicions.

It was far from the only scenario they played, but it was the only one that could really rub her the wrong way. The imagined intimacy fed into the torturous fascination, and it pissed her off. The only thing left to do on those nights was to drink and escort a beautiful woman back to their shared hotel room.

The following mornings Debbie would return to discarded g-strings and phone numbers; never mentioning the lingering stench of sex or various states of undress and intoxication. It wasn’t routine, but it was comfortable at least.

Lou would pretend to be asleep. She ignored the rattling contraceptives that Debbie hid, and the slew of profanities that always accompanied her morning arrival.

She’d wait until she heard the shower turn on before she started to stretch out and dispose of anything she didn’t care to remember from the night before. After throwing on something semi-modest, she’d fall back onto the bed to remain there until the early afternoon.

She'd be asleep before Debbie emerged. It was for the best: sleep-off the longing that only she felt, and the dull pulsing in her head that accompanied it.

She didn't know what Debbie made of herself in the mornings, her fading conscious never bothered putting together a narrative.

One morning, after a particularly long night, she'd woken up to the shower running and relaxed into the familiarity, sinking deeper into the hotel mattress. Her eyelashes were fluttering slowly in unfocused vision when a high pitched whine broke into a stuttering gasp beneath the the gentle roar of the showerstream.

Her head was heavy as she pried it up from the side of the mattress and onto the pillows behind her, the blood in her ears muted all other sounds, and the fog in her eyes blurred every edge and angle in her line of sight, but she heard it again- underneath the noise- a struggle for air.

She blinked away at the the fuzzy lines in her sight, and on the dresser she saw the translucent, orange pill bottle knocked over, its contents spilled across the dresser and onto the floor. Strewn across the floor was Debbie’s outfit from the previous night, abaddon carelessly across the room. Not typical.

The gasping from the shower was replaced by deep, slow breaths that went on for roughly half a minute. Why was Debbie crying? Concern sliced through her dream-state, and she felt her chest rising, her heart going out to Debbie; but the steady stream of the shower lulled her deeper into the mattress. Lou heard the doorknob turning and she jolted back on her side, facing the wall.

Lou listened to the quiet shuffling around the room. The only thing that tipped her off to the unrest was Debbie’s stuttering sighs every few minutes. Something was off.

A little over 10 minutes in, Lou again felt her body begin to sink. An involuntary hmm left her mouth, and she cursed herself for drifting; but her eyelids were becoming heavier; consciousness was becoming lighter and lighter.

The bed dipped and she tipped backwards against a warm, solid force. She felt the presence starkly when Debbie began rubbing big circles on her upper back; she leaned into it, arching like a cat. Again, Lou hummed, stretching her neck up to look at Debbie behind her; but Debbie met her forehead with the same palm, gently pressing her head back down to the mattress, and sweeping her bangs aside. “It's okay, go back to sleep.”

Her brow furrowed against Debbie’s thumb, “Deb,..”

“It's not important.”

“Debbie.” More sternly now, feeling her fog lift.

“Shh.” Lou felt Debbie’s breath against her forehead.

Debbie paused, the unspoken tension hanging in the air. “I'm okay.”  
She spoke so surely Lou almost believed her. But she heard the tightness in Debbie’s chest, and the subtle shallowness in her voice that seldom betrayed an Ocean. But Lou heard it, her body ghosting to turn over to face her. But the energy froze as her hair was tucked behind her ear and she felt a soft kiss against her temple, heavy with unspoken love and heavier with desperately concealed pleading.

_Please._

And Lou was puddy. Always warm puddy, soft and malleable, in Debbie's hands.

She melted back into Debbie's arms, allowing Debbie to wrap herself completely around her, tipping her back and pulling her into her chest. Facing Debbie she could smell the fresh shampoo on her skin, and feel the dampness that still lingered in her hair. Lou breathed her in, wrapping her fingers loosely in Debbie’s shirt and disappeared into unconsciousness.

Lou’s felt her hand being raised up above her shoulders, warm pressure pressed against her palm as her hand was brought to Debbie’s lips. She felt a soft kiss on her hand and heard Debbie whisper, _I love you._ Although, Lou had been asleep.

When she woke up the room was clean, the bottle was gone, and her hand was reaching way out in front of her. Beyond that, Debbie was sitting at the table reading a magazine, her eye was black and her lip was split. She looked up at her, “Hey,” and smiled, “let's grab lunch.”

But now, she looked back up Debbie who wasn't challenging her gaze but holding it. Not expectantly, but openly. _I love you._ She didn't say it. Not out loud, but maybe Debbie heard it.

“Come here.” she heard Debbie say, and she couldn't help but chuckle, not unkindly, again casting her eyes away and cocking her jaw aside.

“I'm serious.” She looked up, and saw feigned impatience.

“Come here.”

She huffed incredulously, but swaggered across the room, once again liquid, as the slow click of her heels lengthened the distance between them. She stood in front of Debbie, who was still leaning back on her hands and looking up at her. She leaned down to kiss her jaw, but Debbie pulled away, her eyes fixed on Lou’s. She pulled her head back, but Debbie’s followed, leaning slightly into her. But no words were spoken. So again, she leaned down to kiss Debbie's jaw, and again Debbie pulled away.

Lou moved back to stand up straight, but Debbie beat her to it, standing up against the table to match Lou’s height. And Lou was being moving forward, Debbie's fingers were hooked into her belt loops, and Lou's hips were brought up against Debbie’s. Brown eyes trained on hers. _Kiss me._

They were inches apart. The warm tension pricked at Lou’s cheeks; her ears were pulsing and hot.

Lou leaned forward, her head warming and light as she tread up a familiar path on a hill she’d been afraid to venture along too far. But she pressed her lips against Debbie’s, cast her eyes over the top hill, the sun becoming warm on her face; and she was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's that. It's sorta canon that Debbie's all control-freak-ish and Lou just kinda rolls with it. I think it's rather heightened here, which was the intent. Hopefully it makes sense, I honestly can't tell.  
> Might go back to the flashback night in regards to what happened, might not.  
> I have a few chapters planned out, but after that literally nothing. If you have an O's 8 prompt or something you want to see written, I will write it. Lemme know.


End file.
